Trial By Error
by WhitethornWolf
Summary: "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." -Ernest Hemingway. [COMPLETE]


The Room of Spirit and Time was a mystery not one person had managed to solve.

A dimension of immense size that some said was bigger than the Earth. Temperatures ranging from freezing to burning. An endless expanse of white stretching beyond a barely visible horizon. Thin air and gravity that made a body ten times heavier.

It was not a place one came to in times of peace. It was a place where a warrior's demons were fought, conquered and shed in blood, sweat, and tears.

"Get up."

Chiyo shifted from her position on the ground and began to rise. Pain flooded her body but she knew better than to complain; instead she climbed to her feet, wincing, and faced her teacher. Piccolo stood waiting with his arms folded.

"Let us continue," he said.

His body glowed and a white light burst from his chest, forming itself into an exact copy. He repeated the process until there were five Piccolos, including himself. Chiyo watched without any surprise. It had been one of Piccolo's first techniques; building up her speed and reaction times by attacking in groups.

As one, the copies of Piccolo converged on the small girl.

Chiyo fought ferociously. Piccolo was more than three times her size and had reach she lacked. Even though his copies had only a quarter of his strength, they were fast and powerful. Chiyo fell again and again, and each time she got back up with a determined glare at her Namekian teacher.

Four months in the room and Piccolo had discovered something beneath the surface in Goku's daughter; something he hadn't known about, despite watching her training during the three years before the Androids' arrival. It was no secret that Piccolo thought Goku too soft to teach his children properly. Up until the age of four Gohan had been a pampered child, fearful and without a shred of fighting experience. A year of Piccolo's tutelage had changed that. Now he was a powerful fighter, if still soft and gentle.

Chiyo had never been taught by anyone other than Goku, and her style was clearly influenced by his techniques and that of his old master, Kamesen'nin. But instead of crying or running away, she worked with the same stubborn determination he'd seen in Goku all those years ago. Still, Piccolo pushed her to exhaustion. They needed all the strength they could get. Four months had already passed, and she was stronger - but it wasn't enough. Any longer and she would slow him down.

Distracted, Piccolo missed the small girl's blow and her tiny fist smashed into his face. He reacted to the small flash of pain with a roar and a blow that knocked Chiyo flying. Suddenly angry, he followed it up with a kick that she blocked, and another which connected.

"Faster!" he yelled.

"Can't - Piccolo - " she gasped in between blocking and dodging blows. "Can I - just - rest - "

Piccolo lashed out with a fist and caught her with an uppercut to the jaw. Her head snapped back and blood flew from her mouth as she bit her lip in reflex.

Chiyo struggled to her feet. The gravity no longer bothered her, but fatigue weighed heavily on her limbs. For the first time in four months, doubt began to creep into her mind.

"You think your enemy will wait?!"

"I can't keep going!" she cried. "Please, Piccolo, can't we rest for five minutes? Please?"

"Cell won't wait for you to rest!" Piccolo roared. "He will kill you in a second! Gohan, your mother, your father - he'll kill _them _too!"

For four months, all of Chiyo's fear and anger had been crushed into a little knot inside her stomach. Now, she felt it beginning to rise. Her stomach turned and she felt sick.

_Papa, why did you let me come here?_ she thought. _You knew this would happen._

She felt a lump fill her throat, but she quickly swallowed it. She would _not _cry. She hadn't cried or even complained once since she got here. Even though she missed Mama, Papa and Gohan terribly; even though she was often lonely and exhausted.

She didn't want Piccolo to see her tears. She didn't want him to be right.

"Your friends - everyone!" Piccolo growled. "Are you a coward?"

Chiyo's head snapped up. "I'm not a coward!"

"Then FIGHT!"

Chiyo's fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. She could feel the hard little knot inside coming undone; rising into her chest, and she didn't want to hold back. The blood roared in her ears and her head felt hot.

"I'm not giving up!" she shouted at him. "I'm not a coward. I can do this!"

Piccolo lifted one hand, and a brilliantly purple ball of chi winked into existence in his hand. The light became brighter and brighter, reflecting off the white floor, until she had to squint to see him. Then his hand flicked forward, and the area exploded with purple and yellow light.

She stood her ground, and remembered back to the first time she'd seen her father become a Super Saiyan. He did it so effortlessly, and she knew that came from experience. But how did he become one? What pushed him over the edge?

Chiyo lifted her hands and caught Piccolo's chi blast. The energy sent vibrations through her arms and heat seared her palms, yet she held it at bay. Every muscle in her body burned and seared, and she screamed with the effort and the pain.

But there was something else there, too - a heat spreading past her wrists, through her arms - infusing her entire body with a fire that raged under her skin. The light was blinding and her head felt hotter and hotter.

Suddenly she _hated _them. Piccolo for pushing her to the brink; Gohan, for the way he could use his own power so easily. Goku, for his kindness and his faith in her.

Her whole body shaking, she poured what little energy she had left into holding that chi at bay, and it wasn't enough; she was bursting at the seams, and finally, finally the knot in her stomach unravelled.

The Room exploded in a burst of light, and every muscle in her body twitched and jumped; skin burning and limbs shuddering, she barely recognised Piccolo's voice.

"Chiyo."

Rage filled her; she bent double, struggling with all her might to hold onto the last shred of sanity she had left.

_He's a friend; a friend, not an enemy, a friend,_ she repeated to herself over and over, while the rest of her mind screamed in fury.

"Chiyo, focus your energy. Calm yourself."

It was as if his words were a switch. The power flowed out of her and she collapsed, her strained muscles turning to jelly. She burst into racking sobs, punctuated by great gulps of air, and she knew she looked stupid and weak, but she was beyond caring. All the frustration and anger washed away, and what remained was a fatigue that seeped into her bones, and with it came an emptiness she felt keenly. She had achieved the impossible - the legendary power of the Super Saiyan was hers. But the transformation had broken her, and she'd never felt more alone than she had in that moment. She needed her father - Gohan - Trunks - someone, _anyone _who had been through this, and for a moment she contemplated giving up.

But the Room's exit lay just a few feet from her, and it may as well have been a million miles. Her strength had deserted her.

Minutes passed, and eventually she felt a rough hand grip her by the back of her suit. She cringed, expecting harsh words or a blow, but instead Piccolo lifted her effortlessly. Without a word he carried her to her bed, pulled her boots and armour off, and covered her with a blanket.

"Sleep," he said as her eyes closed. "Tomorrow your training begins."


End file.
